Denial and Other Matters of the Heart
by Blank Paiges
Summary: In which England is in denial, America is being dense, France is trying to help said countries' incredibly slow-moving relationship, and Kiku and Elizaveta are being Closet!Fangirls/boys. US/UK, with mentions of Germany/N.Italy and France/Canada. Fluffy!


**First fanfiction; I hope I do well! Recently, I've been totally obsessed with this pairing, and I think it's about time I did something for them! Please review nicely, and no flames!**

**Summary: In which England is in denial, America is being dense, France is trying to help said countries' incredibly slow-moving relationship, and Kiku and Elizaveta are being Closet!Fangirls/boys. US/UK, with mentions of and France/Canada. Just pure, honest, epically failed fluff.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Sadly.**

_**I So Totally, Absolutely Do Not, And Will Never In A Million Years, Love HIM!**_

Arthur Kirkland bit his lip to keep himself from staring. The arguing between himself and Alfred should have begun a long time ago. He was grateful that Alfred was currently arguing with France.

But, bloody hell, he was losing it. A few weeks ago, he'd realized something he'd never realized before towards Alfred. It poked and prodded at him. He still didn't exactly know what the feeling was, but he did know that the side effects were staring at Alfred, blushing at the tiniest bit of contact he had with the American, and daydreaming.

Damn, bloody, annoying, embarrassing, _freaky __**daydreaming!**_

And the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland did not daydream like a lovestruck schoolgirl.

He glanced at America and sighed. It could have easily been interpreted as a sigh of annoyance, so there was no harm. He watched as the American's face made all sorts of expressions-smiling, angry, irritated, defensive. _I wonder what other faces he can make under the right persuasion...hang on! What? _Arthur slammed his head down on the table and groaned. Feliciano made some comment about him dying, but England could care less.

_Maybe...maybe I should see a doctor. Feeling this way isn't good for my health, _he thought as he lifted his head off of the table. Arthur sighed for the umpteenth time that day. World Meetings had become a living hell for him...

...or more so than usual.

"Iggy!"

England was still spaced out. Unfortunately, his eyes were on America, and it gave him the appearance of staring. Not that he was. At all.

"Uh...England?" America turned to his former mentor, more concerned now.

"IGGY!"

"Wah!" 'Iggy' nearly fell out of his seat and then fixed Alfred with a cold, hard stare that was meant to be intimidating.

"What do you want, git?"

Somewhere in the background, France smirked. Anglaterre had spaced out during a meeting? How unusual.

"Which one of us is correct, France or me?" America pointed at France, then back to himself. He was sipping a milkshake in between that question, and England was tempted to press his fingers to his temples and rub them to make the threatening headache go away. In fact, he did.

"America, I don't even know what the bloody hell you're arguing about," England insisted. Alfred feigned a hurt look for about two seconds. The American was about to reply when France cut in.

"Of course you don't know what we were talking about, _mon ami, _" the blonde laughed. "You were too busy being captivated by Monsieur America here to even pay atte-"

Binder, meet Francis's face. Francis's face, meet Arthur's binder.

Arthur was beet red and Francis's face was red too, but for an entirely different reason. Now, everyone had stopped their useless conversations to watch the spectacle, and America was just looking from England to France, then back to England again. He was kind of confused, the dense-head he was.

"I was only stating the truth, Anglaterre. Don't be angry with me," Francis moped, rubbing his face with his right hand. England huffed.

_"I have all the right to be angry with you, you crummy bastard!" _Arthur all but screamed.

"Okay. I have no idea what the hell is going on here. Can someone please explain to me?" Alfred asked innocrently. Francis, seeming to have forgotten the pain in his face, was more than happy to let him know.

"Well, America, your 'Iggy' here-"

The Frenchman dodged a blow from Arthur.

"-has not payed attention to a single-"

Francis jumped to avoid being knocked to the ground be Arthur's legs.

"-word that's been said at this wonderful World Meeting-"

Dodge. Arthur was blushing like mad, and was wondering why the bloody hell he couldn't seem to land a punch on the pervert.

"-because he is obviously-"

Francis swirved to the side as the Brit attempted to karate chop him in a desperate attempt to shut him up before...

"-_he is obviously madly in love with you!" _

Alfred sat dumbstruck, and Arthur finally whacked the Frenchman on the head with his chair. Despite the fatal blow, Francis was still grinning like a madman. And, since karma hates Arthur, all the countries witnessed every single bit of the conversation. Kiku and Elizaveta seemed to be watching intently, and-what the hell? Was that a video camera in Kiku's hands?

Arthur started shouting random curses at the Frenchman, and didn't even dare to look at Alfred until the American put a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"Uh, Arthur?" Alfred began. He had actually dropped his hamburger after hearing Francis's earlier declaration. Alfred F. Jones...dropped his hamburger. _Oh, God...this is a bloody bad omen. Curse you, Francis!_

Arthur couldn't even look at the American. "Hm?" Was all he could utter.

"Was what France just said true?" The American asked.

The Brit blushed a deep red, then grabbed his neglected binder off of the floor and ran out as fast as he could. He couldn't talk. He couldn't breathe. He just had to get out of that room as fast as possible...

Ludwig, after several long minutes of blinking, said, "Meeting adjourned." And, taking Feliciano's hand, walked out the door. The rest of the countries filed out quickly.

America and France were left behind.

"You should go talk to him, Alfred," Francis insisted.

Alfred hesitated. "Wh-wh-I mean...y-yeah. I sh-should go talk to hi-him."

The Frenchman's smirk returned. "Hey now. Now you're sounding like my Mathieu. Could it be that you, oh, _return _Anglaterre's feelings?"

Somewhere outside the room, Kiku and Elizaveta held video cameras and recorded what was about to be said. They were both trying to do this while holding tissues to their nose.

Alfred blushed. Did he? He did enjoy teasing Arthur, but that was because...

"No! I mean, yes! I mean, no! I mean...ah, Francis...I don't know," the American sighed and scratched the back of his head. Francis smiled a rare, genuine smile. Or maybe it was just another pervert thing. Who knows.

"...you're so in love with him," Francis insisted.

Alfred giggled. "Am I?" He pictured Arthur only moments ago, blushing like a tomato and jolting at a mere touch on his shoulder. He imagined how he was always making fun of him just to see that embarrassed face. Alfred remembered that he always did like the thought of coming to England's rescue, like a hero, if he was ever in danger. Yeah. He liked that thought a lot.

Then, all of a sudden and without warning, it clicked.

"Oh my effin' god," the hamburger-lover's eyes widened and Francis looked at him expectantly.

"Huh?" Francis coaxed him. Alfred looked up at Francis.

"I'm in love with him," he finally said. "I'm..uh. Yeah. It makes sense. I love Arthur!" France rolled his eyes and shushed him. Then he pointed at his watch.

"Time's a-waisting, then, isn't it?"

Francis met up with Kiku and Elizaveta outside the World Meeting Room. Apparently, they had passed out from nosebleeds. The Frenchman sighed. He slapped the two of them gently to get them to wake up, and when they did, said, "Come on, _mon amis! _We're going to England's hotel room..and bring your video cameras."

His eyes gleamed with a fanboyish charm. Francis never did favors if there wasn't something in store for him as well.

Arthur sat on the couch in his hotel room, a pillow to his face and hot tears in his eyes. And he was still blushing.

"Bloody, no-good tosser! Who does he think he is, blurting out my feelings like that!" The Brit paused. _My...feelings? _

"Oh, hell no!" He began punching his pillow. "Bloody hell no! I am _ not _in love with Alfred, I am _so not _in love with Alfred, no, not at all!"

"Deniii~aaal!" A tiny voice next to him squeaked. Arthur moaned. He wasn't in the mood for any of his fairy friends.

"Go away, Violet," he mumbled. "I am not in the mood right now."

The tiny fairy sighed and leapt onto Arthur's shoulder. She had brown hair and was wearing a purple flower petal dress, and had violet eyes, hence the name Violet. She lay on the Brit's shoulder for a while before clearing her throat.

"You know, Arthur...," she began, "if he's really on your mind that much, you've already fallen for him, you know." The Englishman blushed a deep shade of red.

"I don't love Alfred!"

"How can you _not _love him? I think he's cute!" The tiny fairy gushed. Arthur was somewhat disturbed by that, and was about to open his mouth to retort when-

"Heeey~! Arthur!" A familiar voice called, followed by some rapping at his hotel room's door. _Oh, God! Oh, God! It's Alfred...what am I...what should I do?_ He had a mini mental spaz attack. "Hey, Arthur! It's Alfred! Please open up; I really need to talk to you!"

Arthur willed with all his might for Alfred to go away.

Of course, the American was as persistent as hell.

"Please. Open. The. Door!" He shouted. Arthur grimaced and went to open the door, and was instantly greeted with a huge bouquet of roses. Alfred was looking down at a card in his hand.

"Uh...A-Alfred?"

Alfred looked up at the object of his affections, then back down at the card, squinting.

"Er...Arthur," Alfred seemed to be reading off of his card. Somwhere, in some unseen area, Francis, Elizaveta, and Kiku watched in anticipation.

"I've loved you s-since...," Alfred was blushing like mad, then glared angrily at the card. "Two-thirty this afternoon...wait, WHAT THE FUCK, FRANCIS! I CAN'T SAY THIS TO HIM; THIS IS INHUMANE AND NASTY AND HAS NO ROMANTIC FLAIR WHATSOEVER! AND-AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO _BEGIN _READING YOUR HANDWRITING!" Alfred angrily threw the card down and cursed at an invisible Frenchman. Arthur caught a glimpse of what was written on the card; he nearly fainted.

"Aaaah, screw this!" Alfred shoved the flowers into Arthur's face. The Brit took them, and watched as America cleared his throat. Arthur noticed that his former colony was sweating, and he was blushing. The Englishman raised an eyebrow.

America pushed Texas further up his nose, and, blushing madly and scratching the back of his head, said, "Ah, well. Francis gave me this card telling me exactly how I should tell you this, but...um, it was *CENSOREDCENSOREDCENSORED*, and..well, I should probably tell you in my own words."

England looked at America with growing anticipation. _Blimey! He's not actually going to..._

Alfred summoned up all of his courage and looked the Brit square in the eye. ",doyoulovemetoo?" he said, his words running together. Arthur didn't think he heard correctly.

"What?"

Alfred slowed down. "I love you...England..." He looked to the ground. Then he looked back up at England, whose face was utterly unreadable. (His mind was thinking something along the lines of: _America loves me! Oh my God! He loves me!_) "Are you mad at me?" The hamburger-lover questioned innocently.

Arthur blinked a few times, before blushing another deep shade of red. "No! I mean...bloody wanker...I...guess I love you too," he said quietly. Alfred beamed, then leaned in closer so that their faces were only centimeters apart.

"What was that? I didn't quite hear what you said," Alfred purred. The Brit felt a shiver run down his spine.

"I said, I love you, you goddamn bloody idiot!" Arthur practically screamed, and then Alfred brought their lips together in a soft and sweet kiss, causing Arthur to drop his bouquet of roses, scattering flowers around them as they kissed. Somewhere in an unseen area, Francis and Elizaveta passed out from blood loss. Kiku was lucky enough to stay conscious, and was still filming the entire thing. _I think I've died and gone to heaven..._

Alfred and Arthur parted, and Arthur picked up his neglected roses. The Brit stepped aside, allowing the American to enter his hotel room. "Get in here now or else I'm going to have to bloody kill you."

The American shot him one of his signature grins. "You got it, babe." Arthur turned several shades of red before closing the door behind them.

A few days later, Elizaveta had invited everyone over to her house for some "bonding". Now, no one really liked the sound of that, but Lovino, Antonio, Feliciano, Ludwig, Francis, Matthew, Gilbert, Kiku, Heracles, Yao, and Ivan came anyway, as well as Arthur and Alfred. Rhoderich was there, too.

But Alfred and Arthur were a little late, and Elizaveta decided to show the little...video of how they got together with everyone. Everyone was extremely captivated in it, and, just because karma hates them, Alfred and Arthur walked in at the exact moment of the kissing scene.

"W-WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU WANKERS WATCHING!"

"YOU STALKED US? YOU CAN'T STALK A HERO!"

"Ve! This is very sweet, Alfred, Arthur! It almost rivals how Germany and I-"

"SHUT UP ITALY!"

"I couldn't resist, Arthur-san...it was too...cute..."

"YOU COULDN'T RESIST, MY ARSE! I'M GOING TO BLOODY KILL ALL OF YOU!"

"Wait one minute, _mon amis, _we haven't gotten to the sex scene yet!"

Silence.

...All hell broke loose.

~Fin~

**Yaay! My first fanfiction is-dundundun!-finished! AND YES, I AM AIMING TO BE A FLUFF MASTER! ...So did I make it? **

** Reviews are love! This was my very first fanfiction, so please treat me gently! And no flames, please! Thank you!**

** LoveHateLove,**

** BlankPaiges ^^**


End file.
